


Give and Take

by Karis_Artemisia_Judith



Series: Ties that Bind [3]
Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Discworld References, Edgeplay, F/M, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 02:06:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9797672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karis_Artemisia_Judith/pseuds/Karis_Artemisia_Judith
Summary: Set after 'Ties that Bind'--at the last royal ball of the social season, Anna has red ribbons in her hair and a plan to seduce to her willing husband into taking whatever he wants from her.





	

The ballroom was crowded and hot and too loud. Kristoff had found a corner to hide in for a moment, where he could have a drink in peace and watch his wife. It made him hate balls a little less, seeing how much she loved them.

Anna was dancing with a portly diplomat, making him laugh through his heavy mustache as they circled the room.  The heavy velvet skirt of her new gown swirled around her and glittered with gold embroidery. Red and gold ribbons threaded through her hair, fluttering and brushing over her bare shoulders every time she turned her head. It drew his eyes to the smooth line of her throat, where a simple heart-shaped pendant rested between her collarbones. But she’d taken the locket off of its usual golden chain and hung it instead from another red ribbon, the satin bright against her pale skin and fastened with a bow at the back of her neck.

The music ended and Anna paused with her back to him, fanning herself as she chatted with a tall lady in blue. Kristoff couldn’t stop looking at that red bow. It rested right over a spot that he knew well, a sensitive starburst of freckles that he especially liked to kiss.

Anna started as his hand curved around her waist.

“Oh, Kristoff! There you are, I was just asking Lady Sybil if she’d seen you. I thought you would be hiding in a corner.”

The older woman smiled warmly. “My own husband arranged to be called away to an emergency almost before we were out of the carriage.”

Kristoff answered mechanically—his hand had drifted up to rest between Anna’s shoulders and the contrast between the soft pile of the velvet bodice and the silky smoothness of his wife’s skin was occupying his full attention. He felt Anna lean back slightly into the touch.

“I was hoping to steal you for a dance,” he blurted, interrupting the story she was telling Lady Sybil. Usually he avoided dancing, but tonight he felt a powerful need to hold her in his arms, to have his hands on her, and that meant dancing, unless he wanted to cause an uproar. Anna beamed at him, biting her lip. Lady Sybil might have winked at her as she excused herself with a brief curtsy and moved away, but Kristoff was busy smoothing his hand up Anna’s back and turning her to face him. She laid her palm in his, and he cautiously began to guide her across the floor.

“You’ve been practicing!” Anna said, grinning up at him.

“A little,” he admitted. He grinned back at her. “Any excuse to touch my wife.”

Her eyes widened slightly, her smile quirking as she bit her lip again. He held her a little closer than was strictly proper, close enough that he could feel her shiver when his fingertips stroked her back, tracing the edge of her bodice.  Anna cleared her throat. “Do you…do you like my dress?” she blurted.

“I do. It’s beautiful. _You’re_ beautiful.”

“I thought you might like the color.”

Kristoff blinked. “I do, it’s a pretty color—you don’t usually wear red.”

The music was coming to an end, the dancers halting, but Anna didn’t move to step out of his hold. Her hand slipped from his shoulder to his chest, smoothing across his lapel. “I’d only wear red for you,” she murmured.

“For me?” he repeated, startled. But then her hand went to the ribbon that trimmed her bodice, twisting it around her fingers. Seeing the red satin twining around her hand, pressed against her skin…Kristoff felt himself flush as memories filled his thoughts, sending heat coiling down low in his belly. His hand tensed against Anna’s back—and she smiled, the most wicked, mischievous little smirk—

 _She was doing it on purpose_.

“How soon can you get out of here?” he demanded, voice hoarse. Anna didn’t hesitate.

“It’s late and I’ve talked to everyone important already, Elsa won’t like it but—Wait!” He’d started for the doors, her hand clasped tightly in his, but Anna held him back.

“We need to get upstairs,” he muttered. “ _Now_.”

“We can’t, people will notice if we go out the main doors.”

“The servants’ stair—”

“Even _worse_. And we might bump into Kai, or Gerda.” He growled in frustration and Anna reached up to lay a fingertip over his lips. “ _But_ ,” she said softly, “there’s a fire burning in the blue sitting room.”

“The blue—but that’s only one hallway away, someone might—”

“It has a door that locks, and I collected every single key.” Anna’s eyes were sparkling. “ _Even_ the one from Gerda’s bunch. They’re all hidden in my desk except for this one.” She drew a key from her pocket. It twirled in the air for a moment, dangling on a length of ribbon, and then Anna tucked it into the inner pocket of Kristoff’s jacket. He caught her hand.

 _She planned this_.  Kristoff’s heart thudded. Usually crowds made him tense because he was so aware of all the other people. Now he had to remind himself that he wasn’t alone with Anna, that he couldn’t crush her to his chest and kiss her without causing a commotion. But gods, he wanted to. He had to make do with pressing her fingers to his lips, although his eyes went hungrily to her mouth, and her bare shoulders beneath that red ribbon. There was no one like her in the world. Anna was so giving—love poured out of her, and she wanted to give and give, a spring that never ran dry. She gave help, and laughter, and music, and love to so many…but she only gave herself to one person. And of all people, she gave herself to him. She gave him so much.

 _I can’t think of anything I wouldn’t give you_ , she’d said.

She _wanted_ to give.

And he wanted to _take_.

“Meet me there in five minutes.”

* * *

Anna realized her hands were shaking as she stood in the middle of the sitting room carpet. She’d been planning this for _weeks_ —there had been so many official events and parties over the last few months, because things were _delicate_ in Europe apparently, and everyone wanted to cozy up to the queen who could freeze whole countries, and Elsa had decided the key to being in control of the negotiations was to be the one hosting the important balls, which meant Anna had to plan the balls, not that she minded, she’d happily plan a million balls and leave the political work to her sister, although she was definitely getting exhausted at the thought of coming up with one more flower arrangement, or—

She took a deep breath as a footstep made the floorboards in the hall creak. Through everything, Kristoff had been by her side, putting up with the parties, quietly making sure that her schedule had breaks for meals in it. But now all the treaties were signed, and she could afford to disappear from duty for a while. She just wanted to stop worrying about every little thing and be with Kristoff. It was his turn to be in charge.

The door latch clicked, and she heard him turn the key in the lock. She held still and waited.

“Anna.”

“Yes?” Her casual tone was ruined by the squeak she let out as his hands caught her waist, turning her and pulling her to him as easily as if they were still dancing, but this time he was pressing her close and his breath was warm on her lips as he repeated himself.

“ _Anna_.” His voice was rough, and so was his kiss, and so were his hands, tugging at the hooks of her gown. Soon he was grasping her waist again, lifting her out of the puddle of red velvet as easily as if she were a duckling. Kristoff turned her toward a decorative table, and she heard an appreciative hum as he saw the red cords lacing her corset. It had taken ages to switch them out, but she hadn’t wanted to be _subtle_. The shift that she wore underneath wasn’t subtle either, or practical—the silk was so thin it was translucent, and the narrow straps were already sliding down her shoulders.

Kristoff’s tugs on the corset lacing grew harder, nearly pulling her off balance. Anna gripped the table edge and twisted to look over her shoulder. “Kristoff?”

“It’s knotted,” he growled.

“Just leave it—” she began, but he shook his head.

“I want to touch you, not whalebone.” A glint sparked in his eyes. “Lean over,” he said. “And be still.”

Her eyes widened as she saw him draw the little knife that he always managed to keep on his person, no matter what formal clothes he wore. She bent over the table, holding onto it and her breath at the same time as Kristoff laid one firm hand on her back. There was a whisper of steel on silk, then a snap as the taut cord parted. Anna thought she could sense the blade sliding up her spine, slicing easily through the ribbon. The back of her neck tingled with alarm, but she held perfectly still. She could picture her husband’s face, the precision and concentration, all his focus on her. It sent shivers all the way down to her core.

Kristoff tossed the stiff corset aside and must have sheathed his knife because his hands ran over her sides. She bit her lip to stifle a moan as he cupped her breasts, his palms hot through the tissue-thin fabric of her chemise. The moan turned into a whimper as she felt his lips brushing against the rim of her ear.

“I need you. _Now_. Are you ready?”

She nodded—there wasn’t enough air in her body to form words. She felt dizzy as he pressed her forward to bend over the table. His fingers ran up her leg to gather her petticoats and found bare skin above her stockings instead of proper ladylike drawers, then found her aching center, slick and hot because _oh yes_ she was ready, she was more than ready, she was _burning_ —

And then strong hands were gripping her hips, pulling her up onto her toes, and she didn’t know when he’d managed to get his clothes open but he was pressing into her and Anna’s moan crested into a wail.

“Shhh,” he hushed her, his lips warm by her ear again, and Anna nodded, biting her lip ( _oh God she could hear the music from the ballroom through the walls, she should have picked a rendezvous farther away, she should have—oooh no_ ) but as soon Kristoff thrust hard and deep again the cries were bursting out of her. “ _Anna_.” He covered her mouth with his palm. “You need to be quiet. Can you?”

She shook her head frantically, and when he would have lifted his hand away she pressed it back to her lips. There was no way she could be quiet, and if he didn’t muffle her squeaks and moans they were going to be in such trouble. Kristoff seemed to understand, but it only made him take her harder, until her cries were leaking out around his fingers. Oh she was close, she was close, she was _so close_ —she squirmed, pushing back against him, knowing from the harsh catch in his breathing that he was close to, and if he would just touch her there, his calloused fingers caressing just the way she needed—

But his hand didn’t slide down between her legs to give her the relief she craved. Instead he withdrew from her completely, and Anna whimpered, twisting to stare incredulously over her shoulder, reaching for him. Kristoff caught her wrists and pinned them gently at the small of her back. She squirmed, and he leaned over her.

“Not yet,” he whispered, kissing the nape of her neck.

“But—” Anna pressed her forehead against the table and groaned. “Kristoff—”

The whine in her voice made him chuckle, and he kissed beneath her ear. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

There was a soft, satiny slither, a gentle tug, and Anna realized that he was unraveling the coil of her hair. Coppery curls tumbled down to veil her face as he pulled the red ribbon free. She felt the silky material twisting instead around her wrists, and the heartbeat that had begun to slow soared again.

* * *

Kristoff’s body was throbbing, and for a moment he nearly gave into Anna’s wordless pleading, nearly gave into his own aching desire to lose himself in her hard and fast until they were both satisfied. But then he’d looked at the red ribbon twining through Anna’s hair as he caught her moans in his palm. The ruby shimmer had hypnotized him. He thought of that first time, when Anna had tied herself up as a present for him, a game that had given him control. He wanted that control again, not so much over Anna ( _and gods she was so soft and yielding under him, up on her toes and tilting her hips to take more of him_ ) but over himself, to draw out the sweetness until it was almost painful, to make it last.

Satisfied that her hands were secure, folded together behind her back, he turned his attention to her petticoats. There were three of them—they billowed like a cloud around Anna’s feet when he slid them down her legs. That just left the shift, which was unlike anything he’d ever seen her wear. It was short, for one thing, barely covering the curve of her bottom. The lace edging the wide neckline was woven with a narrow red ribbon, and the silk was so thin…when he turned Anna so that he could scoop her up, he realized that he could see the dark pink tips of her breasts, straining against the gauzy material.

He laid her down on a chaise, then swung his leg over to straddle the bench. One his first visit to the castle, he’d seen a chaise and thought it was a silly piece of furniture, not quite a bed, not quite a sofa, how did you even sit on it? But with more experience he’d grown extremely fond of the things. Now, with Anna reclined against the sloping back, he draped her thighs around his hips. It brought his stiffness tantalizingly close to her heat, and her back arched in anticipation, trying to bring them closer. He pinned her down with a hand on her stomach.

 _Make it last_.

He kissed her through the thin fabric, then sucked, able to feel every detail of her pebbled nipples against his tongue. She whimpered and twisted under him as he ran his lips up to her collarbone, across her shoulder. She felt so good under his hands, tasted so good against his tongue.

“Anna,” he murmured, reverent. Her eyes were hazy as she looked up at him. His fingertips slipped under the hem of her shift, grazed her softness, and her eyes closed again. “No. Anna—look at me.” He kissed her lightly as her lashes fluttered open again. “Look at me while I touch you,” he told her.

She bit her lip as his finger touched her delicately, a slow stroke that barely parted her secrets, but she stared up until his eyes. He stroked deeper, watching her eyes widen as he found sensitive places, as he slipped another finger in to stretch her slick velvet walls. Anna’s lips were parted, but the only sound was their breathing. Then he found a place that made her breathing stop altogether for a moment before she gasped.

“Kristoff—oh, God—”

A flush spread over her chest and her body arched. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

* * *

Anna squirmed, her wrists twisting and tugging at the ribbon that bound them. She was so close, _so close_ —she almost wailed as his fingers pulled away to trace a pattern over her trembling thigh. “Kristoff, I’m so _close_ — _please_ —”

His hand went still, pressing flat against her leg. “What if—” he began, and paused. Anna blinked through the haze of pleasure, focusing on his face.

“What if–?”

Kristoff swallowed, and his fingers tightened ever so slightly. “What if I don’t want you to?” His thumb brushed against her and she shuddered. “What if I don’t want to let you?”

Anna’s eyes were wide. This was something new. From the beginning—after their first shy, fumbling attempts at intimacy—Kristoff had been careful to make sure she was never left wanting. He knew every sensitive part of her, knew exactly how to touch her, and he would do it with patient deliberation until she came to pieces. He’d never _teased_. He’d never withheld anything from her before.

“Why?” she whispered. His dark eyes ran over her, and she shivered. Kristoff’s palm smoothed over her skin in soothing circles. Somehow Anna didn’t feel calmed by the sensation of his calloused fingers stroking her.

“I—I like it. Seeing you like this, feeling you—” He struggled for words and Anna squirmed under his hands. “Usually I only get to see it for a few moments, and…I want more of this,” he murmured. “More of you. You’re beautiful.” A fingertip caressed her heat and Anna jerked, whimpering. Kristoff froze, his eyes snapping up to her face. “I’m sorry,” he said hastily. “I’ll stop, I didn’t mean—”

“No,” Anna said, “no, don’t stop—and don't—I mean, I’ll try not to—” She bit her lip, not sure how to say what she was trying to tell him. She met his eyes, and he seemed to understand. Kristoff leaned over her to kiss her gently, but then his practiced fingers were stroking her again, too lightly, too briefly.

“Will you let me?” he asked softly. “Well you be patient for me?”

“Yes.” The word came out as a gasp. “Yes, please—I promise.”

He kept one palm pressed warm against the outside of her thigh, rubbing in soothing circles as his other hand made her squirm and writhe. Anna’s hands twisted against the sash. She had to press her face into the cushion of the chaise to muffle the noises that crowded her throat, unbidden, and came tumbling out of her lips—gasps, as his fingers dipped into her, and disappointed moans as they pulled back. 

Her body hummed, aching as she was gently pushed to the very edge, only to be eased back down again. It was hard for Anna to keep her eyes open, but she could feel Kristoff’s gaze burning against her skin. She felt as though she was hovering in a cloud of sensation, or suspended in water, floating above her own body. A firm thumb pressed against her clit, two fingers pressed deep into her, stroking against her most secret, sensitive spot, and through the buzzing in her ears she could hear a low, commanding voice.

“Let me see you—”

“Kristoff—” Her voice was so choked that she could barely hear herself, but his hand on her thigh squeezed.

“I know, I’m here. Don’t fight it—let me see you—”

Anna no longer felt as though she was hovering—she felt as though she has suddenly slammed back into her own body, with every nerve ending sparking, every muscle spasming.

And Kristof was there, holding her safe. When she opened her eyes she saw him looking down at her with eyes full of wonder and deep, deep heat. She had to lick her lips twice before she could form words.

“Let me loose. Please.”

He sat up at once, pulling the knots out as easily as if they’d been tied in a loose bow. As soon as she was free Anna caught hold of him, pulling his head down to a kiss, her hands running over his chest and shoulders, down to stroke the hard curve of him. She could feel the tension in his body, the taut iron discipline that he had over everything, everything except the part of him that was so hot in her palm, jerking in response to her hand.

“Your turn,” she mumbled, trying to touch all of him at once. “Take me, this time _take me_ — _please_ —”

* * *

Kristoff let go of his control and gathered Anna tight to his chest. 

“ _Yes._ ” His teeth gritted. Anna’s fingers were tangled in his hair and he grasped her hips to guide her onto him. That filmy shift was twisted around her hips, pulled tight across chest, and he grasped one soft breast, ripe and tender as a peach in his palm as he kissed her. The time for being slow was over. 

Anna’s gasps filled his ears as he lost himself in her body, her heat and softness and strength overcoming him. Gods, he’d nearly spilled himself a dozen times just from watching her, touching her, and now he had her, taking her as she’d asked, giving her everything he had in him.

Afterward he lay back on the chaise, Anna straddling his waist with her head on his shoulder, limp as a ragdoll. “Good?” he asked her.

“Mmmm.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Mmhm.”

Kristoff stroked his hands over her back, marveling anew at the softness of her skin, the yielding and pliable way she curled against him, even though he knew she was shockingly strong for her size. Being with Anna, he thought, was like being on the mountain. Sometimes it was peaceful and easy. Clear weather, smooth paths, laughter from the brooks. And then the same mountain could be exhilarating, unpredictable, every moment a new adventure, a new challenge. Sometimes on the mountain he was relaxed, and sometimes he had to have every muscle in his body focused and disciplined in order to keep up.

In one graceful, sweet body, Anna held all the spectrum of possibility, and even more. And she drew the same out of him, with a single ribbon wrapped around his heart.

He kissed her forehead and felt her sigh against his neck.

“Anna?”

“Mm?”

Kristoff glanced around at the shed clothing, including Anna’s thoroughly unlaced corset. “How are we going to get upstairs without being seen?”


End file.
